Debit and Credit Part 32

They had now reached a part of the town where empty streets, and the silence of the grave immediately at hand, only enhanced the horrors of the distant clamor and the red glare in the sky. At length they stopped before a low building with a large gateway. Entering, they looked into the bar, a dirty room with blackened rafters, in which loud-voiced and brandy-drinking patriots cl.u.s.tered on bench and table. The young officer called for the landlord. A fat figure with a red face appeared.

"In the name of the government, rooms for myself and my companions,"

said the young man. The host sullenly took up a bundle of rusty keys and a tallow candle, and led them to an upper floor, where he opened the door of a damp room, and morosely declared that he had no other for them.

"Bring us supper and a bottle of your best wine," said the merchant; "we pay well, and at once."

This announcement occasioned a visible improvement in the mood of the fat landlord, who even made an unsuccessful attempt to be polite. The merchant next asked for the wagons and wagoners. These questions were evidently unwelcome. At first Boniface pretended to know nothing about them, declaring that there were a great many wagons coming and going in his court-yard, and that there were several wagoners too, but that he did not know them.

It was in vain that the merchant tried to make him understand the object of his coming; the landlord remained obtuse, and was about to relapse into his former moroseness, when the young Pole came forward, and informed Mr. Schroter that this was not the way of dealing with such people. He then faced the landlord, called him all manner of hard names, and declared that he would arrest and carry him off on the spot unless he at once gave the most exact information.

The landlord looked timidly at the officer, and begged to be allowed to retire and send up one of the wagoners.

Soon a lanky figure with a brown felt hat came lumbering up stairs, started at the sight of the merchant, and at last announced, with pretended cheerfulness, that there he was.

"Where are the wagons? where are the bills of lading?"

The wagons were in the court-yard. The bills were reluctantly produced from the dirty leather purse of the wagoner.

"You guarantee me that your load remains complete and undisturbed?"

asked the merchant.

The felt hat ungraciously replied that he could do nothing of the kind.

The horses had been unharnessed and hid in a secret stable, that they might not be confiscated by the government; as to the fate of the wagons, he could neither prevent nor ascertain it, and all responsibility ceased in troublous times like these.

"We are in a den of thieves," said the merchant to his escort; "I must request your a.s.sistance in bringing these people to reason."

Now bringing people to reason was just what the young Pole believed to be his speciality; so, with a smile, he took a pistol in one hand, and said aside to Anton, "Do as I, and have the goodness to follow me." Next he seized the wagoner by the throat, and dragged him down the stair.

"Where is the landlord?" cried he, in the most formidable tone he could raise. "The dog of a landlord and a lantern!" The lantern being brought, he drove the whole pack--the strangers, the fat landlord, the captured wagoner, and all others a.s.sembled by the noise, before him into the court-yard. Arrived there, he placed himself and his prisoner in the centre of the circle, bestowed a few more injurious epithets upon the landlord, rapped the wagoner on the head with his pistol, and then courteously observed in French to the merchant, "This fellow's skull sounds remarkably hollow; what next do you require from the b.o.o.bies?"

"Have the goodness to summon the wagoners."

"Good," said the Pole; "and then?"

"Then I will examine the freight of the wagons, if it be possible to do so in the dark."

"Every thing is possible," said the Pole, "if you like to take the trouble to search through the old canvas in the night. But I should be inclined to advise a bottle of Sauterne and a few hours' repose instead.

In times like these, one should not lose an opportunity of refres.h.i.+ng one's self."

"I should prefer to inspect the wagons at once," said the merchant, with a smile, "if you have no objection to it."

"I am on duty," replied the Pole, "therefore let's to work at once; there are plenty of hands here to hold lights for you. You confounded rascals," continued he, in Polish, again cuffing the wagoner and threatening the landlord, "I will carry you all off together, and have a court-martial held upon you, if you do not instantly bring all the drivers belonging to this gentleman into my presence. How many of them?"

inquired he, in French, from the merchant.

"There are fourteen wagons," was the reply.

"There must be fourteen wagoners," thundered the Pole again to the people; "the devil shall fly away with you all if you do not instantly produce them." With the help of an old domestic servant, a dozen of the drivers were at length brought forward; two, however, were in no way to be recovered, and finally the landlord confessed that they had gone to join the patriots.

The young Pole did not seem to attach much value to this instance of patriotism. Turning to the merchant, he said, "Here you have the men, now see to the freight; if a single article be found wanting, I will have the whole of these fellows tried by court-martial." Then he carelessly sat down on the pole of a carriage, and looked at the points of his polished boots, which had got a good deal bemired.

A number of lanterns and torches were now brought, and after a few encouraging words from the merchant, the wagoners proceeded to roll away some empty carts, and to open out a pa.s.sage to their own goods.

Most of these men had been employed by him before, and knew him and Anton personally; some of them proved themselves trustworthy and obliging; and while Mr. Schroter was cross-questioning the most intelligent of their number, Anton hastened to ascertain, as well as he could, the condition of the freight, which mostly consisted of wool and tallow. Some wagons were untouched; one was entirely unloaded, and many had lost their canvas covering, and been otherwise plundered. The merchant had once more recourse to the young Pole. "It is just as we supposed," said he; "the landlord has persuaded some of the drivers that, now the revolution has set in, their obligations have ceased, and they have begun to unload the wagons. Had we been a day later, every thing would have been carried off. The landlord and a few of his a.s.sociates have been the instigators, and some of the wagoners have been frightened into compliance."

At this announcement a new volley of imprecations proceeded from the lips of the small authority, and the landlord, from whose face all ruddiness had vanished, was soon on his knees before the officer, who pulled him by the hair, and treated him very roughly indeed. Meanwhile Anton and some of the men laid siege to a locked-up coach-house, broke open the door, and disclosed the bales of wool and the remainder of the stolen goods.

"Let these people reload," said the merchant; "they may well work the night through as a punishment." After some opposition, the wagoners set to, overpowered by a combination of threats and promises. The Pole drove the drunken guests out of the tavern, had the outer door closed, and all the candles and lanterns of the establishment brought into the court-yard. Next he dragged the host by the hair of his head to the upper story, and then, by the help of some patriots with great c.o.c.kades, tied him to a bedpost, and gave him to understand that that was the nearest approach to a night's rest which he had to expect. "In the event of the freight being found entire, and safely removed from your premises, you shall be forgiven," said the Pole; "in the opposite case, I shall have you tried at once, and shot."

Meanwhile the uproar in the court was great indeed. Anton had the wagons reloaded and the freight properly secured. Full of his work, he scarcely looked around, and only realized at odd moments his singular _entourage_, and the exciting nature of the scene. It was a large square court, surrounded by low, ruinous wooden buildings, stables, and coach-houses, and having two entrances, one through the inn itself, and one through a gate opposite. It occupied a s.p.a.ce of several acres, as is often the case with these hostelries of eastern Europe, stationed on great thoroughfares; and afforded, as do the caravanseries of Asia, shelter for large transports of goods, as well as for mult.i.tudes of the poor and needy. All sorts of wagons were now a.s.sembled in the square court in question, and it was crowded besides with ladders, poles, wheels, gigantic hampers, gray canvas coverings, bundles of hay and straw, old tar-barrels, and portable racks. Besides the stable lanterns and flaming pine torches, there was the red glare in the sky, and the lurid clouds of smoke and sparks rolling still over the heads of the travelers. This strange sort of twilight shone here at least upon a peaceful task. The wagoners worked hard, shouting loudly the while; dark forms now vanished in the shadow of the bales, now sprang on the top of them, while their animated gesticulations made them look, in the red light, like a crowd of savages holding some mysterious nocturnal orgies.

The merchant, meanwhile, walked up and down between the inn and the scene of action. It was in vain that Anton implored him to rest for a few hours. "This is no night for us to sleep in," said he, gloomily; and Anton read in his dark glance the resolve of a man who is ready to stake his all upon the accomplishment of his inflexible will.

It was nearly morning when the last giant bale was firmly secured with ropes and chains on the wagon top. Anton, who had himself been lending a hand, now slipped down, and announced to his princ.i.p.al that their work was done.

"At last!" replied the merchant, drawing a long breath; and then he went up to announce the fact to their friendly escort.

He, for his part, had contrived to get through the night in his own way; first, he thoroughly enjoyed the supper and wine brought him by the terrified maids, and found leisure to say a few encouraging words to the prettiest of them. Then he contemplated the dirty bed, and at last threw himself, with a French oath, upon it, looking now at the distorted countenance of the roguish host, who sat opposite him on the ground, now at the ceiling; and, while half asleep himself, complimenting the merchant, who looked in from time to time, upon his capacity of keeping awake a whole night. At length the youth fell fast asleep. At least the merchant found him in the morning outstretched on the coa.r.s.e coverlet, his delicate face shaded by his long black hair, his small hands crossed, and a pleasant smile playing around his lips.

As he lay there he afforded no incorrect type of the aristocracy of his nation: n.o.ble child that he was, with the pa.s.sions, and perhaps the sins of a man; while over against him crouched the coa.r.s.e build of the fettered plebeian, who pretended to sleep too, but often cast a malicious glance at the rec.u.mbent form before him.

The aristocrat sprang up when the merchant approached the bed, and, throwing the window open, said, "Good-day: it is morning, I see; I have slept admirably." Next he called to a patrol pa.s.sing by, briefly informed the leader how things stood, made over to him the landlord and the remainder of the supper, and desired him to stop at once, and keep guard over the house until he should return. Then he ordered the wagoners to harness the horses, and led the travelers out into the gray dawn of a comfortless-looking day.

On their way to the agent the merchant said to Anton, "We shall divide the most necessary visits between us. Tell our customers that we have no kind of intention of oppressing them; that, on the restoration of some degree of order, they may reckon upon the greatest forbearance and consideration--nay, under conditions, upon an extension of credit, but that at present we insist upon securities. We shall not effect much in this confusion; but that these gentlemen should be, at a time like this, even reminded of our firm, is worth a good deal." Then, in a lower tone, he added, "The town is doomed: we shall do little business here for some time to come; remember that, and be firm." And, turning to the Pole, he said, "I request you to allow my fellow-traveler to pay a few business calls in the company of our agent."

"If your agent will answer with his person for the gentleman's return,"

returned the Pole, with some reluctance, "I consent."

The light of day had exercised its gracious office of giving color to flowers and courage to the faint-hearted, even in favor of the agent. He declared himself ready to accompany Anton upon the terms proposed.

Accordingly, under the protection of the great c.o.c.kade upon his companion's hat, Anton hurried from house to house, pale indeed from loss of rest, but with an undaunted heart. Every where he was received with amazement not always free from confusion. "How could people think in such a time about winding up matters of business, with the noise of arms all round, and in deadly fear of a horrible future?"

Anton coolly replied, "Our firm is not accustomed to trouble itself about rumors of war when not absolutely obliged to do so. All times are suited for the fulfillment of obligations; and if this be a fit season for us to come here, it is also a fit season for you to arrange matters with me;" through which representations he succeeded here and there in obtaining definite promises, commissions, nay, even reimburs.e.m.e.nt.

After a few hours' hard work, Anton met his princ.i.p.al in the agent's house. When he had made his report, the merchant said, reaching out his hand to him, "If we can succeed in getting our wagons safely out of the town, we shall have done enough to enable us to bear the unavoidable losses that we must undergo. Now, then, to the commandant." He gave a few further instructions to the agent, whispering to him in parting, "In a few days our troops will enter; I take it for granted that you will not leave your house till then. We shall thus meet again."

With upraised hands the agent invoked the protection of all the saints in the calendar upon the travelers, locked and bolted the house door behind them, and hid his revolutionary c.o.c.kade in the stove.

Our friends now hurried on through the tumult, led by the Pole. The streets were full again; bands of armed men pa.s.sed by, the populace was in wilder excitement, and the noise greater than on the previous evening. The houses were thundered at, and an entrance insisted on.

Brandy-casks were rolled on to the flags, and surrounded by drunken men and women. Every thing denoted that the authorities were not sufficiently strong to enforce street-discipline. Even in the house of the commandant there was agitation and restlessness, soldiers were hurrying to and fro, and the messages which they brought were evidently unfavorable, for there was much whispering going on in the great ante-chamber, and anxious suspense was visible on every face.

As soon as the young Pole entered he was surrounded by his friends and drawn into a corner. After some hasty questions, he seized a musket, called off a few soldiers by name, and left the room, without troubling himself any further about the travelers.

The merchant and Anton were shown into the next room, where the young commander-in-chief received them. He too looked pale and dejected, but it was with the bearing of a true n.o.bleman that he addressed Mr.

Schroter: "I have forwarded your wishes; here is a pa.s.sport for you and your wagons. I pray you to infer from this that we are anxious to treat the citizens of your state with consideration, possibly even more than the duty of self-preservation would dictate."

The merchant received the important doc.u.ment with s.h.i.+ning eyes. "You have shown me a remarkable degree of kindness," said he; "I feel myself deeply indebted to you, and wish that I may one day be permitted to prove my grat.i.tude."

"Who knows?" answered the young commandant, with a melancholy smile; "he who stakes all upon a cast may lose all."

"He may lose much," replied the merchant, courteously, "but not all, if he has striven honorably."